


my love is dangerous

by dykejaskiers



Series: Gobblepot Holiday High Jinks 2019 [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dialogue Heavy, Humor, M/M, POV Outsider, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dykejaskiers/pseuds/dykejaskiers
Summary: “Yeah, okay. Well, is that what’s eating you up inside?”Jim frowned. “Who said anything’s eating me up inside?”“Your everything.”Harvey didn’t miss the eye roll.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Series: Gobblepot Holiday High Jinks 2019 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559254
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	my love is dangerous

**Author's Note:**

> Well! I couldn't resist. Sequel to "stranded in sheridan", and I do suppose this'll have a third, part, too. Oops
> 
> Title taken from the song of the same name by Freddie Mercury, and my tumblr(s), as always, can be found at queergordon and wesleywyndcm !

Harvey picked Jim up around seven in the morning from the address he’d been texted the previous night. He wouldn’t have had to – Jim had insisted he could catch a later flight or a cab, or wait for his own car to get fixed; that Harvey should sleep his hangover away, yada yada. But he was a good man and a better friend, Harvey knew, and a hell of a partner besides, so if Jim needed a ride at an ungodly hour in shit weather, then Harvey sure as hell was going to play chauffeur for a day.

He’d pulled in front of the hotel five past seven to find Jim standing in the snow with his hands in his pockets, brows frozen. A few minutes later, his bags had been loaded in the backseat, and Jim had been seated next to Harvey, take-away coffee warming his hands.

The radio played cheery Christmas jingles until it got on Harvey's nerves enough to make him hit a few buttons. The station switched to an early morning news program. He pressed another button, and soft country music filled the car.

“God,” Harvey mumbled, but let it be and returned his focus on the road ahead. 

Jim had been quiet the entire ride. Fair enough, Harvey thought – he wasn’t much of a talker on a good day. But this felt like a different kind of silence, and besides – Harvey was bored. 

“So,” he started. “You sleep good? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, Jim, that place looked like it mighta been rat-infested.”

It worked well enough – Jim cracked a small smile. “Shut up. I slept just fine.” 

But there was something there, in his tone, that continued bothering Harvey. “Good thing they had a room, huh?” He asked, glancing over at Jim, who buried his nose in his take-away coffee cup as he took a sip. 

“Uh-huh,” Jim said, and then added quickly, “Well, I had to share.”

Harvey blinked. “Share?”

“Mmh.” When Harvey turned to look, Jim was staring out the window at the trees passing by in a blur. “Yeah, there was a guy whose car broke down, too. They had no rooms left, so… I offered to split the bill.”

Sometimes, Jim’s sheer idiocy amazed even Harvey. He said as much. “You’re a real dumbass, you know that? What if he was a, a– I don’t know, a serial killer?”

“He didn’t seem like one,” Jim said, somewhat defensively. 

“He didn’t seem like one,” Harvey echoed, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay. Well, is that what’s eating you up inside?”

Jim frowned. “Who said anything’s eating me up inside?”

“Your everything.”

Harvey didn’t miss the eye roll. “It’s nothing. I just…” Jim paused, staring into his coffee as if it held all the answers of the universe. “Does the name ‘Oswald’ ring any bells for you?”

“Should it?”

Jim shrugged. “Probably not. The guy I shared the room with, his name’s Oswald. I keep thinking he looked familiar.”

Harvey glanced at the clock. They’d been driving for half an hour. He deserved a coffee break. “Tell you what, I’m gonna pull over to that rest stop parking lot, and you’re gonna treat me for a coffee and a donut, and then we’ll talk about your roomie. That sound good?”

Jim smiled at him, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Sure, Harv. Sounds good.”

Jim _did_ treat him for a coffee and a donut, and got himself a cup of tea, as well. They sat down on a booth by the window. The place was practically deserted, save for a few truck drivers and the tired looking cashier wearing massive, golden hoop earrings and purple lipstick. 

Harvey waited until he was halfway through his coffee, before talking. “So. What’s this Oswald guy look like?”

Jim looked at the now gently falling snow, his shoulders tensing up for a second. Harvey frowned, but said nothing. After a pregnant pause, Jim started. “Pale. Black hair, kind of spiky. Nose looked like it’d been broken, at some point. Freckles. Lanky, not too tall.”

“You tryna describe a suspect or what?” Harvey asked, huffing a laugh.

Jim got an odd look in his eyes at that, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, smiling. “He was… pretty.”

Harvey sighed. “Pretty.” He watched as Jim pulled something out of his pocket. A piece of paper. Jim straightened it against the table, turned it towards Harvey. A phone number. “You asked for his number?”

“Nah. He left it.”

“For _you?_ ”

Jim leveled him with a look. “No, for the cleaner – yeah, for me.”

“Okay,” Harvey said, trying to keep up. He was too old for this. “So, what does that mean?”

Jim looked like maybe he was too old for this, too. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it means.”

“Well, are you– do you like guys?”

Jim frowned at Harvey. “Yeah,” he said, like it was a foregone conclusion.

“Oh.” Harvey nodded. “Alright.” He sipped his coffee. “You should call him, then.”

“I should?” Jim asked, eyes fixed on the flattened piece of paper.

Harvey eyed him. He wasn’t sure when the last time was that he’d seen Jim nervous about something. A good kind of nervous, anyway. “Yeah,” he said. “You should.”

Jim said nothing, but Harvey thought the look in his eyes spoke loud enough.

After he’d dropped Jim off at the airport, and all but promised him that no, he really didn’t mind staying behind to wrap the case up, Harvey ventured into the nearest public library and asked to use the computer.

‘Oswald’ and a vague description wasn’t much to go on, but Harvey wasn’t expected back in Sheridan for another day. He had all day to snoop around if he had to, and clearly, this meant a lot to Jim, and so by extension, it meant a lot to Harvey. Maybe it wasn’t even anything, and the guy just had one of those faces, or–

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.”

The librarian shot him a dirty look that Harvey ignored.

Of course it sounded familiar – Oswald C. Cobblepot. A familiar name, attached to a familiar face, scowling at Harvey through a grainy newspaper picture.

Harvey sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He was going to have a headache. And worse, he was going to have to call and tell Jim that he’d been flirting with a fucking mob boss.

And perhaps the worst of all - he wasn't all that sure that Jim would care. 


End file.
